


Find Shelter

by shir_hashirim



Series: Stuffed Animal Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (can either be read as weecest or just brothers it’s pretty wholesome), Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Preseries, Protective Dean Winchester, Sick Sam Winchester, Weecest, stuffed animals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:08:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28308783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shir_hashirim/pseuds/shir_hashirim
Summary: Dean wanders around the mall aimlessly, past the food courts and clothing stores. He’s about to circle back to look at a directory when he spots Sam near the end of the row of shops.He’s looking at an Easter display outside of a toy store, decorated with cheesy pastel cardboard eggs and stands that are covered in stuffed animals. There’s rabbits and ducks and lambs of varying sizes in all sorts of garish colors, lined up next to each other with smiling faces.Dean watches as Sam picks up a small white bunny from one of the stands, cupping it in his hands gently and stroking one of its long, floppy ears with his thumb. Standing there by himself in one of Dean’s old, worn shirts, Dean can’t help but think how cute he looks.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Stuffed Animal Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2077719
Comments: 26
Kudos: 84





	Find Shelter

The North Plains Mall is bright and bustling when Dean walks in, a cool blast of air conditioning hitting him as he crosses through the doors. There’s teenagers everywhere, the springtime New Mexico heat already corralling them to their indoor hangout spots.

He dropped Sam off here a few hours ago, feeling a little bit bad for abandoning him so that he could go out on a lunch date with Katelyn Palmer. The date ended up being a bust anyways— she had just recently been through a bad breakup, and spent most of the time sighing tearfully into her grilled cheese sandwich. Dean hopes that Sam will be in a better mood than she was, maybe the two of them could rent a movie and get some pizza for dinner tonight. Turn this day into something better than how it’s been going so far.

Dean wanders around the mall looking for Sam. He watches a group of young boys around Sam’s age chat with each other, showing off their newest purchases, and Dean feels a little pang in his chest. He knows Sam doesn’t mind being alone sometimes, but part of him can’t help but wonder if Sam would be better off if he had some friends in this town. Or if Dean had just cancelled his date and gone to the mall with Sam like he’d asked him to in the first place.

He checks the bookstore first, figuring that would be his best bet to find Sam. He can picture him perfectly, tucked in between the shelves, sitting on the floor with a stack of books sprawled out around him— his brow furrowed in concentration as he reads about Greek mythology or 17th century witch trials or whatever obscure shit he’s into these days.

When he has no luck at the bookstore, Dean wanders around the mall aimlessly, past the food courts and clothing stores. He’s about to circle back to look at a directory when he spots Sam near the end of the row of shops. 

He’s looking at an Easter display outside of a toy store, decorated with cheesy pastel cardboard eggs and stands that are covered in stuffed animals. There’s rabbits and ducks and lambs of varying sizes in all sorts of garish colors, lined up next to each other with smiling faces.

Dean watches as Sam picks up a small white bunny from one of the stands, cupping it in his hands gently and stroking one of its long, floppy ears with his thumb. Standing there by himself in one of Dean’s old, worn shirts, Dean can’t help but think how _cute_ he looks. Sam holds the bunny for another minute or so, his expression unreadable from how far away he is. Eventually, he puts it back and gives it a quick pat on the head before turning away quickly and walking over to an empty bench, where he pulls out a book from his bag and starts to read.

Sam and Dean weren’t exactly raised with comfort objects, or many toys at all, for that matter. They had a few of those green army men, which Dean had stolen from a Walmart when they were little, shoving as many as he could into his jacket pockets. His dad had disapproved when he first found out, but eventually let him keep them, as they were a good way to keep Sam distracted during long car trips, and were a way for them to practice basic attack plans.

Guilt creeps up into Dean, like it always does when he feels he’s let down Sam in some way. He should have tried harder to get him more toys when they were kids. It’s not like having a stuffed animal or two would have impacted his abilities as a hunter or anything. The thought that Sam has been wanting one, for who knows how long, but has been too embarrassed to do or say anything about it weighs on Dean heavily. 

He knows that he and Sam tease each other about stupid stuff all the time, but he doesn’t know how to express to Sam that he can always come to him. Dean can never imagine dismissing him or berating him about something that he wants.

When he does finally walk over to Sam, Dean pats him on the shoulder affectionately. Sam just shrugs him off and stuffs his book back into his bag.

“About time, you’ve been gone for hours,” he complains.

“Sorry about that, Sammy. Got held up with my hot date,” Dean replies casually, not really wanting to tell him about how it really went. “Whaddya say we stop by the video store and rent a movie for tonight, huh? I’ll even let you pick this time.”

Sam eyes him suspiciously, not believing that Dean would actually let him pick the movie. His wariness is pretty well justified, Dean’s always been very heavy handed on giving Sam the proper cinematic education that he insists he needs.

“It can be _anything_ I want?” Sam asks, testing the waters carefully. 

“Sure thing, even if it’s a Disney princess movie,” Dean says, unable to stop himself from poking fun at him just a little bit.

Sam doesn’t take the bait, just looks at Dean with a small smirk before turning around to walk out of the mall and into the parking lot.

***

That smirk is still on Sam’s face an hour later when they’re sitting on Dean’s bed back at the motel, armed with a box of pizza (with mushrooms, at Sam’s insistence), and sodas from the vending machine outside. Sam crosses his arms with smug satisfaction as their movie starts playing on the shitty little TV.

“Really Sam, you could pick any movie in the world and you chose some random obscure documentary?” Dean squints at the VHS cover, shaking his head. “I’ve never even _heard_ of the Kentucky coal miners strike of 1973.”

“Well, good thing you’re about to watch a two-hour documentary on it then,” Sam says with a glint in his eyes. “You know, it doesn’t hurt for you to actually _learn_ about a thing or two every once in a while.”

Dean opens his mouth to protest, but Sam beats him to it. “Something that’s _not_ about porn or hunting, I mean.”

Dean sighs, but settles back into the pillows he’s propped up at the head of the bed, and helps himself to a slice of pizza. The movie is probably at least somewhat interesting, but Dean finds it much more exciting to look at Sam out of the corner of his eyes. He’s got blankets piled up in his lap, his hands idly fiddling with the fabric as he watches.

Dean thinks again about the little stuffed animal back at the mall. He imagines what Sam would do with it, if he ever got to have such a thing. Sam likes to keep his hands busy, always playing around with his pencils, the hem of his shirt, and whatever else he can find. A stuffed animal would probably be very satisfying— soft, plush fabric to roll under his fingertips. He knows Sam would take good care of it, maybe bring it out during times like these, when he’s just relaxing in private with Dean.

It’s probably bad for him to even think this, but part of Dean loves it when John is off by himself on a hunt. Getting to have the place all to themselves is comforting in it’s own way— a peaceful break from the usual days full of morning drills and tense conversations between Sam and their dad. On their own, the two of them still practice what their dad taught them, still stay alert for any signs of danger, but it feels more normal— like maybe their whole lives don’t need to rely on whatever their next hunt is.

Dean _likes_ hunting. He’s good at it, and he enjoys being able to help keep other people safe. But he can never stop the feeling that nags at him from the back of his head that this is not the way to raise children. 

Not that he’s worried about himself, but for Sam’s sake. Sam, who has always cared more about his grades than about how good he is at shooting targets, who would rather spend a day at the library than trudging through the woods on a stakeout.

The problem with being there for all of Sam’s life events is that Dean knows exactly which ones he’s missed out on entirely. He never gets to go to his middle school dances, or to sleep over at a friend’s house overnight, and he certainly never has gotten to have anything soft or cute in his life.

John may think of things like that as a weakness, a vulnerability that makes it easier for monsters to prey on you, but Dean _knows_ Sam— knows his sensitive side, the parts of him that just want comfort and security and some semblance of normalcy, and he can’t find it in himself to blame him or to want those things to go away.

He’s been zoning out for so long that Sam notices him staring. “Hey, what’s up, Dean?” he asks, sitting up on the bed.

“Nothing, just thinking. This movie’s clearly _very_ interesting,” Dean drawls, shaking himself out of his thoughts.

Sam looks at him, then leans back down, readjusting himself so he can lay his head in Dean’s lap while still watching the movie.

“Hey there,” Dean says, ruffling Sam’s hair with his fingers gently. “Is that all I am to you? A nice pillow?”

“Yes. Now watch the movie,” Sam replies, his voice self-assured yet affectionate.

An unidentifiable emotion creeps up in Dean’s chest, as it often does when he and Sam are close like this. He doesn’t know what it says about him that the best moments of his life are when he’s curled up with his little brother. Sam’s so warm in his lap, so _perfect._ Dean barely restrains himself from the strong urge to wrap both of his arms tightly around Sam, and settles for just resting one hand on his head.

Dean’s failed date from earlier is so far from his mind now that he can barely remember the girl’s name. How could any date ever compare to _this_?

They both stay like that for the rest of the movie, Sam wordlessly pressed up against Dean. Dean’s legs go numb after a while, but he can’t bring himself to do anything about it. After the credits finish playing, he shuts it off to find Sam asleep in his lap. He takes the extra blankets and strews them across as much of his and Sam’s bodies as he can, and reaches over to turn the bedside lamp out before leaning back against the bed’s headboard, his eyes shutting easily.

***

Dean’s still thinking about the stuffed animal days later when he pulls up into the mall parking lot on his way home from work. This stupid mall’s the only one within a 95-mile radius, so it’s predictably busy— even more packed than the last time he was here. With his head down, he huffs and elbows his way past groups of people towards the back end of shops, easily spotting the bright Easter colors outside of the toy store.

He approaches the stand of stuffed animals, and takes a minute to look at them all. Most of them are pretty decent sized, but the one Sam had picked up was small, tucked away in between the others. Dean smiles, just knowing that of _course_ that would be the one to catch Sam’s eye.

It’s soft when he picks it up— a chubby, white bunny with a pink nose. It’s got some kind of small pellets inside of it, making it feel almost like a little beanbag. It looks sort of silly in Dean’s hands, but he clutches it tighter and takes it inside to pay for it.

He feels so _obvious_ , tensing up as he hands over some crumpled bills from his back pocket to the cashier— a girl that looks only a few years older than him. Some stupid part of himself is afraid she’s going to accuse him of something, or question him as to _why_ he’s buying a stuffed animal, but she just smiles and tells him to have a nice day. She puts the stuffed animal in a paper bag and hands it to him, which he grabs with a quick nod. It’s just a plain brown bag, thankfully nothing too bright or suspicious looking, but Dean still stuffs it at the bottom of his backpack once he makes it out to the car.

For some reason, his heart’s still beating fast as he drives back to the motel. He’s 17 years old and just got nervous over buying a fucking stuffed animal for his little brother. And now he has to figure out a way to _give_ it to Sam. He doesn’t want him to reject it out of embarrassment, or worse, think that Dean is just pulling some kind of prank on him. 

If Sam were younger, this probably wouldn’t be as big of a deal, but ever since Sam started middle school, he’s been a bit more defensive and closed off than he used to be. Dean sometimes misses the days back when Sam was really little, when he could easily make his brother smile just by giving him a hug or by reading him a story.

Turning over ideas in his mind, Dean looks out at the dry desert landscape of eastern New Mexico. All things considered, it’s definitely not one of the worst places they’ve stayed at. Portales is a decent town— it’s got a school with an advanced program for Sam, a gun store that’s willing to pay Dean under the counter in exchange for working there, and even the weather is kind of nice. Dean’s always preferred the heat. He loves watching Sam sit outside when it’s nice out, nose in a book and making notes as he reads, his hair turning golden in the sun.

Sam’s birthday is coming up in about a month, maybe he could slip the stuffed animal in with some other presents for him and give it to him then.

***

As luck would have it, Sam manages to get sick over the weekend. It’s a messy, feverish kind of sick that leaves him throwing up in the bathroom for hours, while Dean rubs his back and tries to get him to drink sips of water every once in a while. 

Dean runs his fingers through Sam’s sweat-soaked hair to push it out from where it’s plastered on his forehead, and some twisted part of him can’t help but think how good Sam looks even when he’s like this. His eyes are watery and red-rimmed, and his face is flushed all the way down past his neck. He looks so innocent and vulnerable, and for once Dean doesn’t have to fight his instinct to just wrap Sam up in blankets and hide him from the world.

Sam’s nausea dies down fairly quickly, but he still stays in bed the next day, his body worn out and exhausted. The tiny motel trash can gets relocated next to Sam’s bed and quickly fills up with used tissues. Dean dutifully makes him canned chicken noodle soup and tries his best to keep him entertained.

Sam, who’s good at complaining under any circumstances, gets extra grumpy when he’s sick.

“Sam, come on. You’ve got _one job_ while you’re sick and that’s to rest up,” Dean says, after waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of Sam tossing and turning in his bed. He looks at the alarm clock, flashing a cheery bright red to inform him that it’s 3:48 AM. 

“I _can’t_ sleep, Dean. You don’t think I’ve been trying?” Sam huffs, frustrated and clearly exhausted. “Everything feels so _uncomfortable_.” He reaches over to grab a tissue and blows his nose loudly to emphasize his point.

Dean sighs and sits up, getting out of bed to rummage through their dwindling supplies to try and find something he can give to Sam. There’s not much left, and all he can find are a few pills of some off-brand non-drowsy allergy medication. He wonders if a shot of whiskey would be able to help Sam get to sleep.

Suddenly, he thinks about the little stuffed animal that’s shoved in the bottom of his backpack. He goes to fish out the paper bag, and brings it over to Sam along with the pills he could scrounge up.

“What’s in the bag?” Sam asks curiously, propping himself up in bed.

“Take this first,” Dean instructs, dropping the pills into his palm and passing him the half-empty bottle of water on the nightstand.

Sam takes the pills, then struggles a bit to push himself up so he can sit and look at Dean. He eyes him expectantly, his face a bit confused.

“It’s a gift. For you,” Dean starts, feeling a little awkward. “I was gonna give it to you for your birthday, but I figured you might appreciate having it now. I uh— I saw you looking at it, and I just— yeah.” He passes Sam the bag, biting down on his lip to keep himself from saying anything else.

Sam puts the bag in his lap and opens it tentatively, peering inside rather than just sticking his hand in there right away. His body stiffens as he looks down at the bunny in silence. Dean’s palms sweat as he stands there awkwardly in his t-shirt and boxers, waiting for Sam to say something. Against his will, he can feel his heart racing. He just hopes that it’s not glaringly obvious.

“You— you got this for me?” Sam says after a few minutes have gone by, his voice quiet.

“Yeah, Sammy. I know it’s not much, but I thought you’d like to have it.”

Sam gently takes the stuffed animal out and carefully folds up the bag it came in. He finally looks up and Dean’s startled to see that Sam’s eyes are brimming with tears.

Concerned, Dean immediately sits down on the bed next to Sam, reaching out so he can rest a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, what’s wrong? You don’t like it?” Dean asks, keeping his voice soft. The last thing he wanted to do was upset Sam somehow.

Sam sniffs and blinks fast, trying to not let any tears escape down onto his cheeks. 

“No, that’s not it. I— I love it.”

He holds on tight to the little bunny with both hands, like if he doesn’t keep a good grip on it, it will vanish into thin air. His cheeks are red and Dean can tell it’s not just from being sick— Sam’s _embarrassed_.

“Look at me,” Dean says gently, cupping Sam’s cheek and tilting his face up so that they make eye contact. “It’s okay. M’not gonna laugh at you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You don’t think it’s weird?” Sam asks, his voice wobbling.

“Not at all. I think it’s sort of cute, even. It’s just a bunny, not like it’s hurting anyone.”

“Yeah, don’t think dad would agree with you on that one,” Sam huffs. “He’d probably come up with some bullshit excuse about why it would screw up my hunting reflexes or something.”

“Well, dad doesn’t always know what he’s talking about. We don’t have to tell him, we can just keep it between us,” Dean says reassuringly.

Sam nods and a stray tear falls down onto his cheek. Dean wipes it up gently with the pad of his thumb, letting his hand linger on Sam’s face for another minute before he withdraws.

He’s about to get up off of Sam’s bed when Sam grabs his wrist, tugging him back down.

“What is it?” Dean asks gently.

“Will you sleep in my bed tonight? I just think it might help me fall asleep better. If you want to, that is,” Sam blurts out hastily.

“Yeah Sammy, sure thing,” Dean says, his chest feeling warm. “Scoot over.”

Sam shuffles over to one side of the bed and opens up the covers for Dean to get inside. To his surprise, Sam curls up right next to him, burying his face down in Dean’s chest. Dean lets one of his arms rest on top of Sam, pulling him closer, their legs tangling up with each other.

Dean sees the little bunny clutched in one of Sam’s hands, pressed up in between their bodies. He smiles and drifts off to the sound of Sam’s steady, even breaths right beside him.

***

Sam doesn’t give his bunny a name, but he starts keeping it near him as often as he can. He never takes it out when their dad’s around, but when it’s just the two of them, he’ll bring it out, even if to just hold it in his lap. The first few times he brings it over while he and Dean are relaxing and watching TV together, he seems shy, like he’s nervous Dean’s going to tell him to put it away or something.

Dean always tries to deliberately relax his shoulders and smile at Sam encouragingly, letting him know it really is okay. Eventually, it starts becoming less of a big deal. The bunny becomes like an extension of Sam himself— something that encompasses everything soft and sweet and sensitive about him. Dean constantly finds himself feeling so _grateful_ that Sam feels safe around him, and trusts him enough to be more open and vulnerable when it’s just the two of them.

In the fall, John drives them all up to Vermont and leaves Sam and Dean at an actual house for once. It’s small and in the middle of nowhere, but the heat works and they have an honest to God living room with a big couch and a decent TV. 

Tonight, they’re watching the _Lethal Weapon_ movies and Dean watches as Sam grows increasingly restless. He’s kind of offended that Sam hasn’t been paying much attention, but he figures maybe it’s a bit much to expect from Sam to be able to appreciate these.

“Come on Dean, do we really have to watch all three of these?”

“No way, the third one is the best,” Dean retorts. He’s had a few beers and he’s in a good mood.

“This isn’t fair. We should have to vote on these or something,” Sam huffs.

“Okay. Then I vote that we watch _Lethal Weapon 3,_ and my vote is worth more than yours.” Dean leans back on the couch and sinks down into the cushions, propping his feet up on the tiny coffee table.

“Well me _and_ my bunny vote for watching something else, so that’s two votes,” Sam says, pulling out his stuffed animal from where it was nestled under the blankets and brandishing it in front of Dean’s face.

Dean pats the bunny on the head and addresses it directly.

“Sorry little guy, I’m still the top dog in this house. You can pick the next movie though, how about that?”

“I guess,” Sam sighs.

“Hah. I was talking to the bunny, not you,” Dean retorts back.

Sam takes the bunny and brings it up closer to Dean, lightly bumping their noses together. He reaches up and positions the bunny carefully on top of Dean’s head.

“What was that for?” Dean laughs, trying to keep his head still so the bunny doesn’t fall off.

“He says thanks, now let’s watch the movie already.”

Endeared, Dean cracks open another beer and presses play. He takes the stuffed animal off of his head and sets it down on his stomach, positioning it so that it’s facing out at the TV. Even if Sam doesn’t like the movie, at least maybe the bunny will.

***

When John sends them off to the library to do research for a case in Tennessee, Sam brings the stuffed animal with him, keeping it in one of the front pockets of his backpack. 

Once they get situated at a table, books sprawled out around them, Sam takes the bunny out and perches it up on a pile of papers. Every so often, he absentmindedly reaches over to stroke its soft fur. 

Dean watches him out of the corner of his eye, pretending to be engrossed in the 19th century building plans for an old factory he’s supposed to be looking through.

Sam’s too busy actually paying attention to whatever he’s looking at, so he doesn’t notice Dean staring at him. 

By the time they get the information they need, the sun has gone down. Dean puts the books back and walks back over to the table in time to see Sam carefully placing the stuffed animal back in his bag, making sure it’s sitting upright and not getting squished too much.

Playfully, Dean reaches over and unzips the pocket on Sam’s backpack just a little bit.

“There, now he has some fresh air to breathe while he’s stuck in there,” Dean explains.

Sam rolls his eyes at him, but doesn’t make any attempts to try and zip the pocket back up.

Dean offers Sam a hand to help him get up out of his chair. He takes it, and Dean savors the brief feeling of their palms pressed up together, radiating warmth.

***

In North Carolina, Sam and Dean go out to Goodwill to get some winter clothes, since they’ve both long outgrown their old ones. Dean looks through the jackets carefully, trying to find ones that are both cheap and seem like they will last for a while.

While inspecting a heavy brown jacket, Dean notices it has a pocket inside the lining— it’s pretty roomy and even has a zipper. Before he can think about it too hard, he calls Sam over to him. 

“Hey, Sam, come over here, think I found something for you.”

Sam stops looking through a discount bin of gloves and hats and makes his way over to where Dean is.

“Check out this jacket. It seems nice and warm, and it even has a pocket for you to put your stuffed animal in if you want to.”

“Come on Dean, don’t treat me like a _baby_ ,” Sam complains. “It’s not like I need to take it everywhere with me or anything.”

Dean secretly thinks that nothing will ever stop him from seeing Sam as his baby brother, but he just shrugs.

“Whatever, suit yourself. You gotta pick _something_ though.”

Later, when they make their way over to the checkout area, Sam has the jacket piled up in his arms along with some of the other clothes he picked out. Dean raises a smug eyebrow at him.

“What? This jacket was the only decent one I could find,” Sam says defensively.

Dean smirks a little and then fishes out some money from his pockets to pay for their stuff.

When they get back to the motel, Dean gets a flash of inspiration. He digs through his duffle bag and finds his old winter coat, in rough shape and torn in various places from being worn on hunts for so many years. 

The inside lining of the jacket is made out of soft fleece, still fairly intact compared to the outside parts. Using a pair of scissors, Dean carefully cuts out a long, thin strip of fabric from the lining.

Sam’s in the bathroom, so after Dean finishes, he knocks on the door.

“Hey, hurry up in there. I got something else for you,” he calls out.

When Sam opens the door, he’s wearing his new jacket, clearly having just tried it on so he could look at himself in the mirror.

Dean holds up the strip of fabric, and waves it around.

“Check it out, Sammy. I made a little scarf for your bunny. Now he won’t be cold in the winter either.”

He plucks the bunny up from where it’s sitting on the table, and carefully wraps the scarf around its neck before handing it over to Sam.

“Thanks,” Sam says, smoothing out the fleece with his fingers. “I think he likes it.”

Experimentally, Sam takes the bunny and carefully fits it inside the pocket of his new jacket, just enough so that only the top of its head and big floppy ears are visible. It fits inside perfectly, and when Sam zips up the jacket, the bunny is pressed right up against his heart.

***

The little bunny even seems to help Sam fall asleep easier. He starts taking it out every night after he brushes his teeth, and brings it to bed with him.

A few days after a particularly stressful case involving vampires in Florida, Sam has a nightmare. Dean wakes up to the sound of Sam’s whimpering, and notices that the stuffed animal has fallen out of the bed and onto the floor. He picks it up and jostles Sam gently to wake him up.

“Dean?” Sam calls out softly, his brow furrowed.

“Shh, it’s ok. It’s just a dream. Go back to bed.” Dean says, placing the stuffed animal back in Sam’s hands. 

He laces their fingers together for a moment, and then watches as Sam sleepily pulls the stuffed animal towards himself and hugs it to his chest. Dean strokes his hair as he slowly closes his eyes and settles back down into the sheets, his face illuminated only by the faint street lights coming in through the motel window. 

Dean watches Sam closely as he slowly drifts back to sleep, curled up in his bed. Sam’s face relaxes and Dean marvels at how peaceful he looks, curled up safe and secure with his bunny. 

Sometimes he feels alarmed by the sheer force of his emotions. He wonders at the lengths he would go to in order to keep Sam safe, if there’s anything he _wouldn’t_ do for him. He realizes maybe he doesn’t even want to know the answer to that.

**Author's Note:**

> I just really wanted to write a self-indulgent fic about Sam having a stuffed animal! I've never actually written a G-rated fic before so this was pretty different for me, but I had a lot of fun! I'm working on a part 2 of this fic right now so that will be coming soon hehe (all I will say about it is that it’s set when Sam and Dean are adults)!
> 
> Thank you Cel for cheering me on while I wrote this and for all our great conversations about wincest, stuffed animals, and bunnies! ❤️
> 
> Title is part of a lyric from the song All Our Own by Radio Company (yes, Jensen’s band lol).
> 
> I haven't written in a few months, but I'm trying to get back into writing more frequently when I have time! Also, I want to give a huge thank you to anyone who reads this fic, I appreciate y'all so so much!!


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